Reunion
by Faulty Paragon
Summary: In which Sora finally goes down for dinner, to meet the parents he left behind. Takes place right after KHII.


A/N: Another piece inspired by "Don't Think Twice" by Utada Hikaru. This one also has the lovely inspiration of the iconic "Sora, dinner's ready! Sora?" from KH1. I'm not a parent, but my heart breaks for these two.

* * *

Reunion

"I don't know if I can do this," he whispered.

Riku knocked his head lightly with his fist, eliciting a tired giggle from the younger. "Look," the silver-haired boy murmured, voice stern, eyes soft. "I think… we've made them wait long enough. You can do it."

"But what do I say?" he cried, covering his face with his hands. "This is nuts, Riku."

Riku rolled his eyes. "Don't exaggerate. Just do what we rehearsed." Before Sora could protest any longer, the elder wrapped him up in a quick, comforting embrace, squeezing tight for just a moment before letting go. "They deserve to know, Sora." Shoving his hands into his pockets, Riku turned on his heel and jogged down the short driveway, across the silent suburban street to an equally quiet house, ready to face his past.

Gulping, Sora turned. Although he had grown so much taller since he had last been here, the door felt impossibly large, almost menacing. It towered over him, mocking him in his inability to just raise his hand and ring the doorbell.

 _No. I have to do this,_ he thought, steeling himself and pressing the little button on the knocker. Inside, he could hear the light dinging of the bell echo throughout the small building. He stood straight up at attention, heart pounding in his chest, chewing on his lip nervously as footsteps pattered on the flooring inside, a faintly familiar voice calling, "I'll get it, dear!"

The door swung open, the warm light from inside spilling out and momentarily blinding Sora, who had become accustomed to the starry night sky while waiting outside. The light was blocked only partially by the petite figure who had come to greet him.

Sora inhaled sharply, looking at the woman's face. It was older now- much older than he remembered. The lines etched in her brow were just a little more prominent, crow's feet and laugh lines engrained deeper into her skin. She was thinner, too- the bright, round face he remembered was faded, slightly sallow compared to the shining beacon of his childhood memories. No matter how much she had changed, however, she was unmistakeable. It was her.

The woman's eyes, just as blue and clear as his own, widened in shock when they met his. She gasped, taking a step back and covering her mouth. "Oh-oh my-" she breathed, one hand clutching her chest as she struggled to take it all in.

Sora chuckled awkwardly, running a hand through his unruly brown spikes. "Hiya… Mom," he finally murmured, giving the woman a soft smile. "I'm… um… I'm back-"

But something was wrong. There wasn't just joy in her eyes- there was something else there, too. Something darker, something almost… horrified. Ashamed.

Suddenly, the woman nearly shrieked, "My baby!" and leapt forward, throwing her arms around his neck. He staggered from the sudden weight and instinctively held her, but before he could comment, he felt the woman shuddering, felt liquid fall against his neck.

His mother was crying.

The body in his arms was so much smaller than he remembered. It was frail, thin- he could feel shoulder blades jutting out of her back, her figure gaunt and fragile compared to the lean, tall, toned frame he had built over the last few years. With trembling hands, he wrapped his arms around her even tighter, burying his face in her hair, the once-brown strands now streaked with grey and weariness.

But the scent from her hair- the scent was the same. The same fragrance that signified safety and comfort whenever the darkness sent his heart away in fear, back when he was a child. It was the scent of vanilla extract and baked goodies and warm milk and _home_ and _oh my gosh I'm home-_

And then, Sora broke.

The sobs were inexplicable, wrenched from his throat so suddenly that they came out almost like a scream, strangling him in the intense anguish that wracked his body. He squeezed even tighter, the bawls he let out only matched in intensity by the fervour of her arms holding him just as close.

This was his mother. This was his home.

Finally, he felt the woman pull away although the tears continued to stream down his face. "Mom, I-I-I-I'm so sorry," he hiccupped, his own tears falling more freely than they had in years. It was like the floodgate in his heart had opened up; like everything that had ever caused him distress had been previously bottled up, and the bottle had finally shattered.

He felt thin callused fingers brushing his tears away, the woman hiccupping as she examined his face. "My baby," she repeated, running her fingers through his hair, cupping his cheek. "Oh my god, it's you, Sora. It's really you."

Sora smiled instinctively as he basked in the sheer love radiating from the woman in front of him. "Yup. No one else but me, right?" he whispered.

Suddenly, another figure appeared in the doorway. "Honey, what's going on?" the gruff, low voice asked curiously. "Who is it-" Just as his mother had done, the man standing at the door gasped, his expression morphing from shock to disbelief to confusion to horror to shame, and finally, to relief.

The teen blinked at the man, taking in his new appearance. Just like with his mother, his father was smaller than he remembered, less muscled and more lean. Sora straightened up slightly, only to realize that the greying man was actually on eye level with him. Sora really _had_ grown.

Suddenly, the words he had rehearsed with Riku came to mind. He frantically wiped the tears from his eyes on the back of his glove, turning to face the man. "D-dad," he stuttered. "I'm back. I'm sorry I'm late."

The man watched him, mouth opening and closing as he tried to comprehend what exactly was happening. Sora furrowed his brow. _This isn't how it was supposed to go,_ he thought nervously as quiet settled upon the trio- his mother, still fussing over his clothes and his face and _oh you got so tall_ and his father just staring at him silently.

After what felt like an eternity, his father stepped out of the door, reaching a trembling hand out to cup Sora's cheek. "Is that my son?" he whispered, green eyes brimming with tears.

Sora felt another wave of emotion wash over him. His father had never cried in front of him before.

Stiffly, he put on a goofy smile. "It sure is!"

The same wide, pearly-white smile from his childhood flashed through the man's thick beard. "Of course it is," his father said, pride sneaking into his tone, mixing with his disbelief. "You… you've grown."

"Dinner's ready," his mother whispered suddenly, squeezing his hand and drawing his attention back to her. "Come on. Let's go in." Sora spluttered, trying to respond, but she shook her head, eyes still swimming with frantic tears. "No buts. Wash up and come straight back down, okay?"

And Sora's heart broke yet again as his mind flashed back to years earlier- back to when the storm of darkness threatened their island, back to when Sora was whisked away and Destiny Islands were swallowed up- back to when he had been lying on his bed, waiting for his mother to call him down to dinner, when he had surreptitiously decided to go check on the raft.

He hadn't come down for dinner that day. She must've called him for a while until the worry set in. With the chaotic whirlwind of events that had been his initiation to the Keyblade, to all of his adventures while searching for his friends, he had somehow forgotten to reflect on how these two would react to his disappearance. _How scared did she feel when she saw that I was gone?_

For the first time, he realized just how callous he had been to leave them behind without a word."I'm so sorry for disappearing," he whispered, sniffling, trying to hold back the tears which threatened to continue spilling forth.

He felt a tender hand caress his cheek, his father gripping his shoulder comfortingly. "It's okay," his mother whispered. "I'm just so happy you're safe."

"Welcome home, son," his father murmured, squeezing Sora's shoulder. "You made it back. All that matters is that you're here with us, now."

Sora opened his mouth, the confession almost coming out involuntarily. _But I can't stay,_ he thought desperately. _I might have to go back! The King said that there's someone behind all of this- we can't leave it alone!_ Because King Mickey _had_ told him and Riku about a potential danger that the worlds were facing. And, as two Keyblade wielders, it was their duty to stop whatever darkness was vying for control over Kingdom Hearts. That was why Riku and Sora had come back home in the first place- to give their parents closure before stepping back out onto the battlefield, to prepare them for their inevitable departure. The King had mentioned that the battle would be their most difficult one yet.

There was a chance they'd lose friends, in the final battle. Sora knew how crushing that could be, after thinking he had lost Riku for so long. He wanted to set things right with his parents before anything happened, so they wouldn't be lost like he was back then.

But looking between the haggard, yet utterly blissful expressions of his parents, he couldn't bring himself to say the words. He just couldn't. He couldn't do that to them the moment he came home.

He finally settled for a weak, "So what's for dinner?"

His mother linked arms with him, eyes adoring and so thankful that Sora's knees almost gave way. "I made your favourite."

"Really?" He raised a brow, mildly impressed at his own luck. "That's pretty perfect timing."

"We couldn't find you, so finally, we decided to wait. So, she made one of your favourites every single day, these last few years," his father chimed in quietly. "Just in case."

 _Just in case you came back,_ his mind conveniently supplied, and a stab of guilt hit him in the gut once more.

"Not that we ever stopped looking," she said, running a gentle thumb over his knuckles. "We knew. We always knew."

"You're our boy. Of course you'd be alright."

Their words were more like soft reassurances to themselves than to Sora. They spoke like broken toys, repeating those words like hollow mantras to themselves. Their suffering may as well have been plastered all over the walls- it was so evident.

"Well," Sora whispered, "I'm sure it's gonna be great. I've missed this." _I've missed you._

He gulped, allowing his parents to guide him into the house. His mother immediately ran off to the kitchen to whip up some dessert, his father dragging him to the washroom, ensuring that the boy washed his hands as if Sora was a toddler once more. Before he knew it, he was seated at the dining table with steaming food in front of him and two strained figures watching him anxiously. His eyes flitted between them both, taking in their combined concern, curiosity, love, and fear all mixed into one heartbreaking expression.

"This smells great," he offered. Before he took a bite however, he added, "After we eat… can I tell you about what happened?"

The two figures traded looks, the fear flooding their faces momentarily before they managed to rein themselves in. Mustering up a smile, his father nodded. "Of course, kiddo."

Sora nodded back, feeling his brows permanently knitted together despite the warmth he felt in his heart. The food smelt right, the faces of his parents were familiar- yet, something was wrong. His chair was too small for him, the slippers on his feet a little too tight. The dining room, which had always seated the three of them comfortably, suddenly felt crowded, confining.

It wasn't as free, as easy, as dinnertime in the Gummi ship. This scene felt familiar, yet not.

But he didn't voice these doubts, this unease. He brought the food to his lips and savoured the taste of his mother's cooking; just what he remembered, but something small had changed, _maybe a spice, or the amount of sugar_?, while looking around the room. This was home, yet it wasn't. Not really. And, as he watched them anxiously trade looks back and forth before focussing back upon him, sitting on the edges of their seats, his father tense and his mother nervously fiddling with the hem of her skirt, he understood that they knew it, too.

"It's delicious," he said quietly, digging in.

 _I'm sorry,_ they all heard.

"Tell us about it all after, okay, honey?" his mother whispered.

"Everything," his father insisted.

"Don't leave out any detail," she added hastily.

"Not a single one," his father agreed.

Then, there was quiet while Sora ate. It was clear that they had already eaten their meal before his arrival, as they simply sat and waited. A part of him was surprised- he had thought that they might overwhelm him with questions, so many that he wouldn't be able to answer.

Another part of him understood. They had waited for him to come back for years. A little more waiting wouldn't hurt.

At last, he was done eating.

He opened his mouth- paused, took a deep breath. "I love you two," he whispered at last.

His mother nodded slowly. "We know, sweetie. We know."

"I'm sorry for leaving. I didn't know what would happen."

"We believe you," his father murmured.

"But before I tell you," he began, desperately trying to find the words Riku had rehearsed with him so many times before, "I need you to know-"

"No," his mother interjected.

Sora froze. "No?"

She let out a shuddering breath she had been holding, suddenly looking years above her age. "You're here. You're our baby boy, you belong _here."_ Her eyes began to mist over again, pitch rising desperately. "Everything is just fine, honey," she whispered, pleading to him with her eyes to just _not say it,_ "but if you're- if you're gonna think twice about this, about _us…_ I don't want to know."

"Honey-" his father tried to cut in, but she shook her head, tears falling from her eyes once more.

"No. If you're going to leave again, then I don't want to know. You're my baby boy. I need you _here."_

And suddenly, the true gravity of everything that had happened to not only him, but to _them,_ finally crashed upon his shoulders, the guilt rising up and rushing over him like a tidal wave. He had left them behind, left them to suffer in the darkness alone, while he was off saving everyone _but_ them. His next words caught in his throat.

His parents stood wordlessly and walked around the dining table, wrapping him in their embrace before he could utter another word, and all Sora could do was cover his face and cry in shame, in longing, for what he had done to these wonderful people. Because in that moment, despite all of his strength as a warrior of light, as a heroic Keyblade wielder… he had never felt more powerless. And unlike any problem that could be solved with the power of light or by using his heart, he knew there would be no way to wipe their tears once he was gone again.


End file.
